A Snake Among The Lions
by FalconWings14
Summary: DISCONTINUED As the mighty lions of Gryffindor slept, a single Slytherin snake crept among them, with shocking intentions. What will they boys do when they discover Draco by Neville's bed, doing nothing but watching? Slash DracoNeville,DracoBlaise
1. Midnight

**The plot bunnies attacked me this morning. I had no idea what I was writing, but I knew that I had to get '_Fair of hair and fair of face. Brain is small and slow of pace._' in there somewhere. That was the entire inspiration for this fic, which is weird. Anyway, I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS FROM HARRY POTTER, and this is a SLASH fic. You've been warned, so if you no like it, you no read it. My first slash fic, so feedback very welcome. Yes even you flaming people. Afterall, a girl needs something to laugh at.

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In the depths of night at Hogwarts, in the Gryffindor boys dormitory, a cloaked figure crept among the beds. Curtains twitched briefly as the intruder peeked in to see who was there, until they finally arrived at the bed of Neville Longbottom. His curtains were thrown open completely and the figure stood before the slumbering lad, simply watching him sleep. The cloak was removed, and Draco Malfoy knelt down by Neville's bedside with the silence and grace of a feline. His steely grey eyes softened and roamed over the sleeping Neville, resting on his sandy hair flopping over his warm, angelic face. Draco felt the urge to brush a lock out of Neville's eyes, but resisted, knowing that he was taking enough chances just being there.

_Fair of hair and fair of face,_ he thought to himself, enjoying the way the moonlight danced on Neville's features, highlighting the little frown that had crept onto his face from some dream or another. He looked so innocent and vunerable when he slept. Draco noticed the open Potions book hanging limply in his hand and smiled to himself. _Brain is small and slow of pace,_ he finished, remembering just how cute Neville had been that day when Snape had him on the verge of tears. Draco knew Neville wasn't stupid; he knew how well he was doing in Herbology. He only called him stupid so that the other Slytherins wouldn't suspect how much he really liked Neville. If that happened, then his father's reputation would only go so far before he had 'the gay beaten out of him'. Draco wasn't gay. He just felt attracted to Neville. One guy didn't make him gay, did it? Involuntarily, Dracol;eaned over and bathed in Neville's adorable smell: a perculiar mix of spilled ink and hint of toad, and of course, the comforting scent of fresh potting soil.

"No Professor Snape, I don't want to drink my potion!" Neville murmered in his sleep. Draco watched with concern as Neville's face twisted in fright, and wondered if he could get Snape to go a bit easier on the Gryffindor. Suddenly, Neville cried out and sat bolt upright, with his brown eyes wide open. He was panting and sweating, and his hands were frantically slapping at his pyjamas as he checked that everything was where it should be. Draco had catapulted himself to the ground from blind panic. He swore he was having a heart attack.

"Oh, it was just a dream." Neville sighed. He took a second to calm down before he laughed nervously and fell back onto his pillow. Draco was slowly edging away from the bed, praying that Neville would just go back to sleep without noticing him. No such luck.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Neville yelled. He had been reaching to draw his curtains when he had seen Draco sprawled on the floor. Now he was screaming blue murder.

"Please, I can explain." Draco whimpered, wondering why the hell he was trying to explain himself. Malfoys did not explain, mainly because people did not question Malfoys, but that wasn't the point.

"What's going on?" Seamus Finnigan demanded as he staggered from his bed to Neville's. He was soon joined by the rest of the Gryffindor boys, each as confused as the next.

"What's ferret face doing in here?" said Ron, having finally looked down to see Draco on the floor.

"Yeah, and how did he get in?" Harry asked, slightly more awake than the others.

Draco opened and shut his mouth several times, attempting to force out the words. He had never been so flustered in his life. He couldn't bear the thought of the whole of Fourth Year Gryffindor knowing exactly what he was doing in their dormitory at - what time was it? No matter, the exact time was irrelevant. Draco simply knew that if he told them, he would never hear the end of it. He just needed a different reason to give them. Finally, he managed to speak with what he hoped was a sneering tone: "What I'm doing in here is strictly Slytherin business. Not for you bunch of peasants and mudbloods to know." Slytherin business? How lame did that sound?

"Well, if you're going to be like that!" Harry snapped, and went to fetch his wand. Draco scrambled to his feet and withdrew his, ready to defend himself. Neville was still in his bed, looking at Draco with a very confuddled expression.

"Why were you by my bed?" he murmered. Draco pretended not to hear him. "Why were you by my bed?" Neville repeated, more persistantly this time. Draco still refused to answer. By now the other boys had returned with their wands and stood there with quizzical looks on their faces.

"Yeah Malfoy! Why were you by Neville's bed?" they all chimed, edging closer to Draco. He searched desperately for an excuse, but couldn't find one. Instead, he pasted on his best 'Do-not-dare-defy-a-Malfoy' look and planted his feet firmly on the ground.

"Alright," Harry sighed, seeing that they would get nothing from him without a thorough hexing. "If you won't tell us what you're doing here, then at least tell us how you got in here."

"That's simple." Draco smirked. "I just followed Potter and Weasly to the Fat Lady one night and overheard the password."

Both Ron and Harry were appalled that they had failed to notice Malfoy tailing them, and Ron was turning scarlet. But, at least they knew that the portraits weren't fussy about who they let in as long as they gave the password. This meant that they could get into the Slytherin tower and wreak as much havoc as Malfoy was going to, once they found out how much that was.

"I still want to know what you were doing by my bed. It's my bed; I have a right to know who's sniffing around it!" Neville persisted. Draco smirked - if only he knew exactly what kind of sniffing he was doing.

"I know a way to get him to talk." Harry chuckled to himself. He gave a brief nod to Ron, Dean and Seamus and as one unit they jumped Malfoy before he even had time to squeak in protest. His wand went clattering to the floor and all four limbs were pinned down by four Gryffindor boys.

"Fools! Get off me! You'll pay for this tomorrow! I swear to Merlin you'll pay!" he howled, resisting with all his might. He wriggled and writhed until he ran out of strength and gave up, determined not to break though he had ceased his struggle.

"Neville, get Ron's trunk." Harry instructed as he not-so-inconspicuously twisted Malfoy's arm a bit too hard. "He's got some of Fred and George's itching powder in there." Neville got up and fetched the itching powder, then stood infront of the restrained Malfoy and waited for further instruction. Harry thought for a moment, considering the most torturous place the powder could go. He grinned as an idea struck home. "Pour it down his pants Neville." he said. An evil smirk spread across the room as every Gryffindor boy imagined the humiliation, apart from Neville, who stood there gaping at Harry. Draco suddenly began struggling again, making Neville even more nervous.

"I can't do that." he whispered.

"Yes you can. Think of all the times he's made fun of you and put you down. Remember when he stole your rememball, and when he made fun of your parents being in St Mungos."

At the mention of his parents Neville found his sense of revenge and went to dump the whole lot of itching powder down Draco's pants.

"NO!" Draco yelled. Neville stopped an inch away. "Please Neville," Draco whimpered. Everone was shocked to see him beg. "I'm sorry about what I said about your parents. I didn't mean it one little bit." Now he was taking back something he said! It was a double humbling from Malfoy! No one could quite believe it.

Neville was confused for the hundreth time that night. "Why did you say it if you didn't mean it? And what were you doing by my bed?" he added.

Draco sighed. "I can't tell you. Please, I'm sorry. Just don't make me explain myself. That would be worse than the itching powder." Neville looked into the pleading eyes of one of his most hated classmates and saw nothing but grey pools of desperation. He took the powder away out of pity. Malfoy must have been really desperate to beg _him_ for mercy.

"Let him up." he said. No one moved. "Let him up. I don't care what he was doing any more, so just let him go."  
"You might not care, but I do." Ron grumbled. Neville brandished the itching powder in an un-Neville-like threatening manner. Ron and the others immediately let him up. Draco dashed to his feet, gathered up his wand and his cloak and scurried towards the exit.

"Thank you." he said before he disappeared through the door. On his way out he fought back tears of - relief? Sadness? Gratitude? Well, he fought back tears all the same. He just couldn't get his head around the fact that Neville had helped him. Neville had helped him, despite all the horrid things he had done. Did Neville like him? No, Neville just pitied him, which Draco felt was worse than telling him and the itching powder put together. It had been a very bad night.

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**Did we like? I think everyone was slightly out of character, and I suppose the plot could have been better. And maybe if I rewrote the whole thing in a completely different context...no, that's putting myself down too much. Did everyone like the Draco/Neville pairing? Should I continue?I'll only know through reviews, so you know what to do. Everyone gets a reply!**

**Veritas Indolentia Adamo: Ohmigod hi! Thank you for reading this. Um...I kind of already said everything in reply to this at school, but never mind. I like the different times in their lives idea. If I weren't so damned lazy I might use it, but I think I just about have the energy to insert some purty romantic stuff, and then I'll collapse in a heap of globble (new word for ya!) And regarding your proposal to continue this in exchange for you writing a slash fic: you're on! I want Oliver/Percy (though Oliver is rightfully mine, I don't mind lending him to Percy for a bit). Those are so great, and one from you would be awesome. So yeah, I'll continue this because you bribed me, and threatened me. Not that I'm intimidated by you (ducks out of way of hail of arrows). Okay! I am! I'm writing, I'm writing!**

**vanillafluffy: yeah, draco and neville together is great. Glad you apreciated the hint of toad bit. This will be continued when I can find my plot bunnies again, but for now whenever I try to continue I end up bashing my head against the keyboard, which isn't good for the keyboard, so there you go. Thankies for reviewing! I love your story Ink, by the way! giggles**

**feltons-babe90099: (grins) Aw, shucks! I'm so glad you loved it. And you thought I did well on Ron? Ohmigosh you have no idea how huge a compliment that is, because I find him sooo hard to get right! If you want more, you'll get more, as you asked so nicely along with the flattery and all. I just can't guarantee it'll very soon. Sorry, but this story keeps glaring at me evilly. I'm trying to continue, I promise.**

**calikocat: Interesting? Yeah, I thought so. I love Slytherin/Gryffindor pairings, they're so cute. And I thought it was about time Draco had a taste of humble pie. There is more coming. As afore mentioned, probably won't be for a while, but bear with me please! **

**whitey: (sighs) I knew you'd think I was wrong in the head for writing slash. Hence my website remaining SECRET until rozza found it. (grumbles) But if reading through and replacing names with yours and Gerard Way's makes it bearable, then so be it. It wasn't that bad, though, was it? At least you enjoyed the actual writing, right? And i suppose your general dislike for harry Potter is a huge contributing factor aswell. (smiles) I do however, have an idea of what to give you for your birthday...**


	2. A Shift In The Universe

**OMG I finally finished this chapter! I promised I would, and I did! I did! I surprised myself when I did, 'coz I was struggling through my writer's block, getting there line by line, and then suddenly the chapter was finished! I actually did a happy dance, I was that overjoyed!**

**Okay, it's short, but I was really struggling on this one, so pwease don't be angwy! (yip! yip!) Thank you to all the people who reviewed and begged for more of this, 'coz without those luvly reviews floating around in the back of my head i probably would have given up on this altogether. I like this chapter more than the first one. Hopefully you guys will too. And I guess I've committed myself to writing more of this story now, so you can be happy in knowing that some actual romance is gonna happen (eventually). So enjoy the fruits of my labour, peeps!**

**Warning: Slash. Don't go bitchin' to me about how disgusting it is. All homophobic comments will be laughed and then ignored. And if you're not a homophobe but you still dislike slash with a passion, then fair do's. I'm not gonna force you to read it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. You know I don't. I would not be on if I owned the characters from Harry Potter. And I don't claim to own them either, nor do I make any profit from this story, so you have no basis upon which to sue me, all you people who sit around itching to sue people. So don't!**

**P.S. **_Italics _**are thoughts. _Bold italics_ are words with emphasis. But you could have figured that out for yourselves.

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Potions the next day was tense. The Gryffindors were watching the Slytherins every move, convinced that any second they were about to unleash some ghastly prank. The Slytherins in turn were convinced that the Gryffindors were up to something, and so returned the suspicious glances with twice as much venom. Even Snape had recognised the heavy air and was keeping his head low at his desk rather than risk walking up and down the classroom between the uptight students. And among all the scepticism and suspicion, sitting very awkwardly, was poor old Draco.

He was trying desperately to ignore the situation surrounding him. As far as he was concerned, the entire world extended as far as his desk and no further. There certainly was no such person as Harry Potter, staring at him as if he was the very scum of the earth, and there was definitely no such boy as Neville Longbottom. No, Neville Longbottom and his adorable puppy dog eyes did not exist, and all Draco had to worry about was putting his finely powdered gnome teeth into his potion at exactly the right time.

"Draco?" Pansy Parkinson waved her hand obtrusively in Draco's face, shattering his fantasy and scaring him half out of his wits.

"Wha...what? Who's there?" he spluttered, accidentally dumping all of the gnome teeth into the potion at exactly the wrong time.

"What do you mean 'who's there'? What's wrong with you?" Pansy snorted, failing to notice the sickly green smoke that was beginning to billow from Draco's cauldron. She continued to prattle on about how Draco had been acting like a complete pillock since last night and how people were beginning to think he had lost the plot, until the smoke had enveloped her in a smog-like grip. Only when she began shrieking for help did Snape dare to move, swooping down on Draco the way he had done so many times before with Neville. Neville himself was staring wide-eyed at the chaotic scene before him, thanking his lucky stars that it hadn't been his cauldron for once. Draco didn't even want to acknowledge what Potter and Weasle were thinking.

"Draco Malfoy!" Snape spluttered, obviously at a loss for what to say. "This is something I expect from Longbottom, not from someone such as you!" He paused, conflicting emotions flickering across his hooked features. Finally, a side won, and he screwed his face up in disgust. "Ten points..." he muttered, forcing the words between his teeth. "Ten points from Slytherin." Snape shot one last withering look at Draco before performing a hasty scouring charm on his cauldron, sending Pansy to the Infirmary and then storming back to his desk to sulk over the points he had just taken away. Draco was left with the rest of Slytherin glaring at him like he had just declared his undying love for Harry Potter. Or Neville Longbottom. Either way, they were pretty pissed off.

"Nice one Malfoy!" Blaise Zambini chuckled. "Maybe you ought to partner up with Neville next time. You can compare cauldron-exploding tips!" A few boys snickered behind their hands, making Draco's blood pound through his ears with both embarrassment and anger. This was the price of being perfect; one slip-up and suddenly you're a disgrace. All he could do was sneer at those who dared laugh at his misfortune, and then blunder on through the day until he could go to bed and cry into his pillow. It was killing him not to cry right now; he could feel the hot tears burning behind his eyes. It wasn't fair! He had never asked for any of this, but it had happened and now his life was falling down around his ankles. Draco just wanted everything to go back to normal, and he certainly didn't want to think about Neville Longbottom ever again!

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"So, what do you reckon's up with Ferretface, then?" said Harry with a mouth full of bacon. He began gesticulating with his fork and almost knocked over Hermione's pumpkin juice. She held her goblet still and glared at him, not that he noticed. He was far too engrossed in the latest topic of conversation: Malfoy falling off his pedestal.

"I dunno." Ron answered him, also enthralled by the topic. "It's almost like he's had a personality transplant. I mean, when have you ever known him to screw up in Potions? And when has he ever begged _us_ for mercy?"

"Never!"

"Exactly!"

"Well I think you're both making a whole big issue out of nothing!" Hermione snapped. Harry and Ron ogled at her like she had just grown an extra head. "So what if Malfoy blew up the Potions lab? All he's done is prove that it can happen to anyone, whether they be 'filthy mud-bloods' or 'high and mighty Malfoys'."

"Alright then," Ron smirked, delighted at finally knowing something Hermione didn't, "Explain why the Ferret was snooping around in our dormitory the night before last, by Neville's bed no less!" The desired effect was achieved, as Hermione gasped in shock;

"How on earth did he get into your dormitory?" she asked.

"Not the point." Harry replied. "The point is that he was snooping around Neville."  
"But what's that got to do with him messing up in Potions yesterday?"

"Maybe nothing..."

"But maybe something." Ron cut in, waggling his eyebrows suggestively (a/n - not _that_ kind of suggestion. Patience, readers!) in the hope of some reaction. To his disappointment, Hermione merely shook her head dismissively.

"You're clutching at straws, boys." she sighed, "You're so desperate for Malfoy to be the evil nemesis you always make him out to be that you're inventing suspicious connections between two completely separate situations."

"But you admit that it was suspicious that he was snooping around Neville's bed?"

"Well it's not normal, is it?"

At just that moment, the subject of the trio's animated conversation swept into the hall. If Draco was cracking up, he sure didn't look like it. His face was set in stone, betraying no emotions whatsoever; eyes fixed on the path ahead. The sudden hush that had spread through the room seemed to escape his attention and as he walked past the Gryffindor table he didn't even stop to sneer at Harry. He just walked in, sat down, and began to eat his breakfast. Harry and Ron were severely disappointed.

"You'd think that he'd be at least a little cringe worthy, wouldn't you?" Ron huffed.

"Isn't he even the tiniest bit annoyed that the whole school's talking about him?" Harry huffed with him.

"Well what did you expect, for him to walk in crying his eyes out?" Hermione snorted back. Both boys gaped at her, which she ignored, being the mature and clever person that she is. Gaping did not become her.

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Meanwhile, over at the Slytherin table, Draco was trying his hardest to control the urge to run away and hide. He knew as soon as he walked in that everyone was talking about the cauldron incident. Heck, he knew that before he walked in! Draco's only comfort was that the cauldron incident was enough of a scandal to cover up what was really wrong with him. The gossipmongerers were too busy squawking about Draco's fall from grace to bother looking any further into the matter, which meant he was safe...for the moment.

"Hey Malfoy!" called a voice. Draco groaned inwardly. "Met up with Longbottom yet? I reckon if you put your heads together, you could come up with some revolutionary explosive, add another wonderful achievement to your name." Surrounding Slytherins snickered at the not-so-funny joke.

"Go hex yourself Zambini!" Draco snapped. He ignored the fact that Pansy Parkinson was hovering around Blaise the way she used to hover around him. So what if Zambini had replaced him as top dog? At least Pansy would leave him alone at last; Zambini was welcome to her! Mind you, it hadn't taken everyone long to adjust to this new order of things. Where on earth was their sense of loyalty?

_Bunch of spineless, fickle kiss-ups!_ Draco thought. _Who needs them?_ He ignored the little part of him that whined 'I do!'. _Malfoys don't need people,_ he told himself, _People need Malfoys!_ All he had to do was turn the other cheek, and then have his revenge when he had rebuilt his social status and won over Neville. _Whoa! Won over Neville? Where in the name of Merlin did that come from? We are not entertaining such thoughts, remember? _Draco mentally reprimanded himself, and then sighed when he realised that he was becoming slightly schizophrenic. It was definitely not normal to have so many arguments with oneself, that was for sure. Maybe he needed help. But...who from? A shrink? His mother? **_Dumbledore_**? Draco shuddered, and then cheered himself up greatly with the thought that he still had the rest of the day to get through. _Great.

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**FEEDBACK! You know by now that without feedback my will to continue this shrivels and dies. So REVIEW! I think everyone was slightly more in character. No?**

**Saziikins: Hi there! My sister's got the same name as you, although she spells it Sazzykins. Isn't that just a lovely irrelevant coincidence? (glances up at chapter) Characterization fab? Snape amusing? Draco's musings spot on? Plot great? swoons Oh, thank you so much deary! I'm so flattered! I shall keep this fic going just for you! (dances round room) So happy! Must keep writing for lovely fans!**

**Veritas Indolentia Adamo: (cringes) I'm continuing! I am! Just don't hurt me! (grins) To be honest I don't know why Blaise is being such a git. Is there a reason why he shouldn't be? However, I like the possibilities your interesting story might wield. Do tell, my little meringue, do tell. Together, we shall rule the world of HP slash! Or not... As always, many thanks for dropping by. I love ya for it!**

**Eelectric-diva-Nina: (whips out copy of HP and checks) So it is! Soz, I will spell his name right next time. (whaps self round head) Zabini! Zabini! And in this story he's such a git because...um...well, I'll think of a reason later. I guess seeing as several people have asked, I shall have to make his git-ness relevant to the story or face the wrath of the OOC squad. (grins) I'm glad you're enjoying so far, and thanks for the heads up. Live long and prosper!**

**olivialynlee: Thank you! I'll try and update soon, I will. And seeing as you like this pairing, I feel dutybound to recommend Ink by vanillafluffy. Much better than mine, trust me. Thankies for reviewing!**


	3. Why Blaise Was Such A Bitch

**Okay! It's here! You can stop threatening me now! (eyes Mel pointedly) You begged for it, so now i give you chapter three, explaining why Blaise was being such a bitch. Completely OOC, but all my HP books have gone walkies so I can't really help it. And yes, I know it's short, but beggars can't be choosers. This is just to keep the mob at bay for a while. (giggles) I have a mob! (giggles again) Oh! And also, school just started again and as I'm now in Year 10 (meep!) all my teachers are piling homework and revision and scary talk about GCSEs on me, so unfortunately updates will not be all that regular. Soz.

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Blaise didn't really want the other Slytherins to worship him, but he knew that Draco did. And so he took them. He didn't really care if Draco messed up in Potions, but everyone else did. And so he milked it for all it was worth. Even now as Pansy Parkinson was flitting around him, whispering naughty somethings in his ear, Blaise felt no satisfaction in her adoring him like a god. Only in Draco's face when he saw all that was once his suddenly become Blaise's. Because it _hurt_ him. The way _he _had hurt _Blaise_. He deserved every last bit of it.

That night when Draco had come storming into the dormitory ridiculously late, everyone wanted to know why his eyes were all red and puffy. The only answer they got was some incoherent mumbling about itching powder, and so they left it at that. But Blaise had known better; he knew Draco had been crying. And he desperately wanted to know who had made his pretty Malfoy cry, so he asked him.

"None of your damn business Zabini!" came the harsh reply. That was the first sting.

The next day Blaise overheard Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas gossiping over their breakfast about some incident involving itching powder. He knew straight away they were talking about Draco,

"I wish Neville hadn't made us let him go. I would have loved to have seen that itching powder go down his pants!" chortled Dean.

Seamus grinned back. "Yeah! But I still wanna know what on earth he was doing by Neville's bed! I mean, did you see any evidence of him doing anything shady?"

"Not a shred of evidence."

"So...what _was_ he doing?" Neither of the boys had an answer. But Blaise did. He knew _exactly_ what Draco was doing, because he had done it so many times to Draco. And the thought of Draco, pure beautiful Draco, going anywhere near that bumbling idiot Longbottom made Blaise want to vomit. That was the second sting.

The third and final sting happened in Potions, just after Draco had his accident. Blaise had watched with concern as that dreadful smoke had billowed out of Draco's cauldron. He had watched as panic slapped itself all over his perfect face, as his eyes darted across the room in search of a friendly face to support him, and as those desperate pools of grey flew right past Blaise and landed right on tubby Neville Longbottom. And that was it. He knew Draco would never think of him the same way he thought of Draco. No, he would always turn to that stupid _Neville_!

**_Well Draco,_** he thought, **_If I can't be with you, then I'll fucking be you! I'll show you what it's like to be humiliated by you, and then we'll see how much fucking Longbottom appeals!

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It had taken just a few snide comments in just the right places to completely flatten Draco's empire. Blaise was disheartened at how easy it was, because it showed just shallow the boy's life was. After that it was easy to stay angry at Draco, to remain disgusted at how pathetic he had become. All Blaise had to do was think of everything he would have given that blonde, how complete he would have made him, and how Draco had ignored him in favour of some snivelling Gryffindor with a pet toad! It was enough to make him see red for days. So he did. And it felt _good_.

A quiet voice roused Blaise from his triumphant musings, "Blaise?" He turned round to find Draco standing behind him, looking resignedly forlorn.

"What is it Malfoy?" he spat.

"Nothing..." He shuffled from one foot to another and sighed. "Well, something really."

"What?" Blaise was becoming impatient.

"I was just wondering what I'd done to make you hate me so much." The pleading look on Draco's face instantly melted all of Blaise's anger away.

"Draco, I..."

"Well, I was at first." Draco interrupted, discarding the pleading look with a wave. "Then I realised that I don't particularly care anymore." His tone was suddenly icy cold, the way it used to be. "Spending time being completely isolated from leeches like Pansy showed me just how much I don't need them. Now I'm free, so whatever your reasons were for ruining my life, I just want to offer you my deepest gratitudes for showing me how shallow and empty my life was before. I hope you have more fun with it than me." And with that Draco turned and left, with a satisfied smirk slapped on his thin lips. Blaise was rendered completely and utterly gobsmacked.

**_So much for humiliating him..._** he thought, sinking miserably into the nearest chair.

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#**Woo! Mucho cursewords in this one. Musn't let my mum read it...(giggles)**

**Okay, you know the drill. Gimme feedback and I give you more slashy (albeit very slowly), so hit the little button. Yes, that one there. I don't care what you put in there, seriously, I just want to hear from you guys! You can go on about lemmings for all I care, just let me know you read this. Although, of course, constructive criticism and pointers on how to improve are more than welcomed - they're NEEDED! So review!**

**P.S. Happy 25th B-day Mikey Way for September 10th! Nobody told me at the time so I couldn't celebrate on the actual day, but at least I can get other people to join me in my late-b-day celebrations! (eyes readers suspiciously) Right? Come on, be enthusiastic! He's one of the _Way_ brothers, for Pablo's sake! As in MyChemicalRomance? You worship them, right? Well, you should. But Mikey is _mine_, so hands off! (grr!)**

**REVIEWS! LUV YA!**

**blue ajah: Aww...what a nice review. Short, sweet and simple. I'm happy that you like it, thankies for dropping by! Means a lot to me, it really does!**

**Saziikins: Aha! A fellow Year 10! And therefore a fellow Brit! (squeals) You have Science exams on 24th November? Hmm...that rings bells. I think I do too...I should really pay more attention...but oh well! Good luck to you on yours! (giggles) Lemmings are fascinating, aren't they? And they're constantly attacking a friend of mine in rabid fashion, flanked by badgers and voles. Poor, poor guy...where was I?  
Oh yes! The review! (sighs with relief) Considering Blaise is one of your fave characters, I am so glad you like this insight to him. I was scared i was gonna completely screw it up and offend his fans, but as you like it i suppose i can relax a bit. Yay! Love triangle! (thank Veritas Indolentia Adamo for that) I am gonna have so much fun with this...glad you enjoyed Draco's reaction. I couldn't have him completely melting into a pool of self-loathing and misery, because that just wouldn't be draco would it? And of course Seamus and Dean had to get in on this chapter...because I love them more than Harry himself and share your appreciation for the supporting characters of HP who should have books of their very own! (toddles off grumbling about lack of Seamus/Dean action in book) Thankies for reviewing! You are much adored!**

**Veritas: No! Please, have mercy! I can only write so much! Wait, don't hate Blaise because of me! He doesn't deserve it really, he's one of the few reasonable Slytherins! Oh, what have i done? (giggles) Alas, my dear chum, I shall never have MSN for my father claims it to be too much of a virus risk, and my mother is paranoid about chatrooms and other such things on the internet, so it can never be...  
Woot! Mikey Way! One day I am gonna show you the video for Ghost of You and it'll blow the Green Day outta your (ahem!) ears! And you'll probably laugh at me for fancying Mikey the way Mara did, but now she's converted so beware! Mwaha!**

**xxStardreamerxx: Woo! Thank you! Much appreciated!**

**Veritas(again): Yeah. He's a nutcase. (giggles)**


	4. The Assignment

**I'm sooooo sorry for the delay! All inspiration for this story dried up inside of me and I couldn't for the life of me write another line. However, thanks to constant slave-driving from my good pal Mel, I managed to sit myself down in front of this and force myself to write another chapter for you guys. And in this one I actually manage to get the plot moving, so yay for me! Unfortunately it's a little short, but that's because I didn't waffle on too much this time (hopefully)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the character associated with it. But we all know I wish I did. But I don't make any money out of this; it's just for fun, so don't sue. Thank you.**

**Oh! Just remembered, I'm currently working on my comedy writing in preparation for potential upcoming projects (wow! That sounded professional!) So I need you people to let me know if you found a particular line or scene or image funny. Please and thank you!

* * *

**

It had never previously occurred to Draco just how much his social life had acted as a cage, rather than a safety net. When Blaise Zabini forced him to look in on his life from the outside, he could finally see just how superficial it all was. Had he really gotten any satisfaction from the sickly doe-eyed way that Pansy Parkinson used to look at him? Did he really spend most of his time trying to squeeze a half-decent conversation out of Crabbe and Goyle? It didn't bear thinking about, to be honest, and he was glad it was all gone. He felt he owed Zabini something for freeing him, and he had great pleasure in telling him so. After all, the bastard had done it to hurt Draco, so showing him that it had had the opposite effect was a perfect way of getting revenge.

However, getting even with Zabini didn't solve Draco's little 'Neville' problem. The forgetful blonde was still preying on his mind, no matter what he did to distract himself. He hadn't blown up any more cauldrons since the first disaster, but he had managed to turn his inkwell into a miniature volcano whilst attempting to transfigurate it into a frog. McGonagall had a complete fit, and it took him three detentions to clean up all the ink. It wasn't his fault though; as he was thinking 'frog', his thought pattern immediately went to 'toad', and therefore to 'Neville'. By the time he caught himself he was seeing black stream past his eyes, and the sound of all his classmates laughing at him rang through his ears. It was then that Draco made up his mind to rid himself of this nonsense once and for all. Unfortunately, he had no idea how.

* * *

"Listen closely, class, because this is going to be absolutely vital to your final grade." Snape began, pacing up and down between the rows of students, possibly for effect, possibly to exercise his legs. His dark eyes fixed themselves on every student one by one, making sure they each looked terrified enough for him to carry on. "Some of you are managing quite well in this class. Others consistently show me that they don't have, and never will have, even a glimmer of hope concerning achieving a passing grade." He glanced pointedly at Neville, who swiftly looked down at his shoes in embarrassment. "Then there are those who have previously outshone every other student in here, only to recently fall flat on their faces." This time Snape didn't even have to meet Draco's eyes for him to know he was referring to him. The boy looked thoroughly miserable in his own skin, and Snape was disappointed to see his star pupil seem so defeated. He sighed and carried on with his speech, "Now comes the time when you all have a chance to redeem, or better yourselves. You are all going to work on a project, of your choice, which will count towards half of your final grade." Small excited murmurs bubbled through the classroom. "Silence!" Snape snapped. Everyone obeyed. "You may seem excited by the prospect of having a freedom over your work. Let me tell you now, that this freedom will be short lived. You will all have to work in pairs to do this project, and I will choose the pairs!"

There was a shocked silence. Ron Weasley opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione quickly hushed him up. Snape was briefly thankful to the girl, before remembering the conditions under which Dumbledore wished him to carry out this class project. Inwardly he grimaced.

"Unfortunately, under orders from Dumbledore, the pairs must be inter-house pairs. One Gryffindor and one Slytherin each." This time an angry buzzing erupted from the class, and Snape had half a mind to join in.

Zabini was the first to protest directly to Snape, "Sir, that isn't fair! I can't work with a Gryffindor! Not when half of my grade is at stake!"

"You'll have to." came the tired reply. "Now would everyone please be QUIET!" The buzzing was immediately muted. Everyone watched with dread as Snape scrawled names on the blackboard. He made two lists; one of all the Gryffindors in the class and one of all the Slytherins. As soon as he was finished he withdrew his wand and tapped the blackboard twice. After a few seconds the names started to tremble, and then slowly they began to dance around the blackboard, breaking free from their respective lists and attaching themselves to one another. Eventually, they stopped moving and there was just one list left on the blackboard: the list of pairings.

Draco felt sick as he scanned the list for his name. No matter who he was paired with he was going to face five weeks of hell. It would have been awful anyway without the whole Neville business, but since then he had lost any authority over them, and now he was victim to their incessant teasing. The only chance he had was to be paired with Granger, although even she would have some bone to pick with him, most probably one about house elves or something equally ridiculous.

As Draco found his name, he willed his eyes to move slightly to the right and see who he was paired with. He read the name, and then read it again. And again. His mind refused to absorb the information. It couldn't possibly be who he thought it was. He had to be reading it wrong.

"Looks like we're working together." said a voice. Draco looked up to see exactly who he couldn't possibly be partnered with. He gulped as Neville Longbottom sat down next to him, and moved his cauldron so that Neville could put his own down.

"Yeah, I guess we are." He managed to croak, before his panic sensors went into complete overload and forced all thoughts out of his head but one: How in the name of Merlin was he going to manage five weeks of being around Neville without giving himself away as a pathetic gay loser?

Neville sighed. "Look, I know you're not very happy about being partnered with me, but trust me, the feeling's mutual. I just want to get this project over and done with, okay?" Draco nodded, much to Neville's relief. "Good." He said. He opened a heavy textbook and looked back at Draco. "So what are we going to make for this project?"

_A deadly poison and I volunteer to test it!_ Draco thought, but instead he said "Why don't we make a love potion?"

Neville shook his head. "Everyone will do that. Let's at least try something more original."

Draco wanted to slap himself. Why the hell had he suggested a love potion? He was about to go on a major self-scolding session when he was struck by a brainwave, "How about an anti-love potion?" It was perfect! If they pulled it off then Draco could get rid of these nagging feelings for Neville and get on with life!

"An anti-love potion?" Neville raised a quizzical eyebrow. For a terrible moment Draco thought he wasn't going to go along with the idea, until he nodded his head and smiled, "That's a good idea, Malfoy."

Draco felt his heart swell up inside his chest and grinned from ear to ear. Maybe he could survive this project after all…

* * *

**Feedback always welcome. I have a feeling my writing style in this chapter might seem a little schizophrenic, but that could just be my critical writer's paranoia. (giggles)**

**Yay! Reviews! People love me!**

**vanillafluffy: OMG hi! You liked the transformations class bit? Yaysies! (claps hands) I'm so glad! (heh heh heh…Freudian!) And I'm glad you liked the names on the board bit too. Snape was originally gonna just hand out scrolls but I was faced with the problem of the scrolls potentially clashing and therefore not being a successful random partnering scheme. Plus, that would have just been boring. Aw, it makes my heart swell with pride and satisfaction for you to say it was a nice touch! (huggles) Thank you!**

**veritas: No you didn't push too hard honey! In fact, it was just the right amount of pushing. You, combined with checking my stats and seeing how many people had this story on their alert list was just enough to make me get my arse in gear and write this chapter, whether it killed me or not! Aw, you liked the names moving about too? I swear I subconsciously stole it from somewhere; I can't have come up with it myself. I'm just not that original. Well anyway, I'm glad you liked this chapter. Quick question: Cedric Diggory in the Goblet of Fire film. Yea or nay? I'm saying yea, what about you? Although give me the Weasley twins/Oliver Wood/Bill Weasley any day. (drools)**


	5. Downward Spiral

**Chapter five! Woo hoo! I'm sorry, this took waaay too long to update, but I decided that I'm going to take my time from now on. Longer waits for you guys, I know, but it does mean that the chapters are longer, the content is better, and the plot actually advances to a point of significance! There is an actual point to this chapter! Yay!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. I own nothing. Comprende?**

**Warning: ACTUAL BODILY CONTACT! (gasps) Oh yeah, and Draco, who is a GUY, is attracted to Neville, who is a GUY! And stuff happens in this chapter, so you have been warned. Yes you have. You can't complain now (although all attempts at complaining will doubtlessly be hilarious).**

**Enjoy.**

**xXx**

Everyone at the table fell into a hushed silence when they saw him hovering near them. He knew that they would; old rivalries still ran painfully deep. They still didn't trust him despite his rather public fall from grace and his weeks of civil, polite and sometimes even shy behaviour around them. He would always be the hated Draco Malfoy to them on at least some subconscious level, and it was good to know. Even now there was a little voice inside of him yearning for his old sense of power to come back, no matter how many times he told himself it was beyond reclamation.  
"Is there something we can help you with, Draco?" Hermione briskly asked. The forced graciousness in her tone was exposed by the way she showed too many teeth in her smile, and Draco was reminded of his father desperately trying to be patient with the bumbling buffoon of a Minister, Fudge. Draco was tempted to give her his very best withering glare and make a hasty exit before she could hex him, but instead reciprocated her false kindness with a much practiced politician's smile and a polite, simple answer,  
"I was wondering if you knew where Neville was. We're supposed to be meeting up to work on our Potions project." Father would be proud…  
"Sorry, he just left to go looking for you." She replied, almost genuinely apologetic.  
"You know, your organisational skills really suck, Malfoy." An all too familiar voice chipped in. Blaise coolly breezed past and hesitated for only a second before taking the seat next to Hermione. Draco watched as all the Gryffindors slowly inched as far away from him as they could without looking inconspicuous. Hermione looked absolutely dejected at Zabini's mere presence, and Draco felt sorry for the poor girl. She could have shared her top marks with someone more deserving, but instead she was stuck with that evil swine for five weeks.  
Blaise gleefully continued in his verbal slaughtering, "Honestly! You can't even arrange to meet in the library! I'll bet you haven't even decided what you're going to make for your project yet. I suppose Longbottom put in a few suggestions, though. Tell me, are you prepared to spend five weeks making a cure for being a fat, pathetic half-wit?"  
SMACK! Blaise flew backwards off of his chair before he even had time to defend himself. He landed on the floor with a crash and laid there, dazed, while crimson streamed from his nose. Draco stood over him, trembling with rage. His fists were clenched and his eyes were frightfully wide as he knelt down beside his adversary.  
"Neville may not be the smartest, the strongest or the most skilled wizard in the universe," he hissed. His voice was colder than ice, and cracking with loathing, "But he's got a kind of courage people like you and I will never know, he's generous and kind hearted beyond words, and he's twice the man you'll ever be. So crawl back under your rock and leave him alone, or I might have to use my wand instead of my fists, Zabini."  
"You will do no such thing, Master Malfoy! How dare you attack another student in this library!" Madam Pince hollered. She proceeded to whack him over the head with her feather duster until he was forced out of the library, all the while shrieking about his ghastly behaviour, all the points she was taking from Slytherin and how much trouble he was going to be in once she had informed Professor Snape. Oh, but it had been worth it just to wipe that slimy look off of Zabini's face. There had been many little pleasures and luxuries in Draco's short life, but the exhilarating feeling of triumph that came with hitting Blaise easily beat every single one of them.

xXx

Neville had spent near enough an hour searching for Draco after finding the library rather lacking in his presence. To be honest, it hadn't really been that good a search as Neville didn't know the boy very well and had no clue as to where he would have gone, but he had ducked his head into every empty classroom he came across, and had even paid the owlery and the Quidditch pitch a quick visit. And that, he decided, was that. If Draco didn't want to be found, then Neville wasn't going to waste his time bothering with him. He had much more important things to be doing, like his Herbology homework and beating Seamus at chess. So he turned about face and set off for the Gryffindor tower, immediately crashing into Professor Snape and almost knocking him over.  
"I-I'm so s-s-sorry sir!" he squeaked. He felt it would be best to run away now before Snape could react, but alas, his feet didn't agree.  
"Watch where you're going, you dim-witted fool!" Snape snapped. He fixed Neville with a stare like that of a cobra about to strike with its venomous fangs, at which point Neville's feet finally received the previous signal and promptly ran as fast as they could in whichever direction Snape wasn't in.

And so it was that Neville found himself outside by the lake, where the midday sun was shining directly in his eyes. As he staggered about with his hand shielding his face, he came across a lithe figure stretched out by the bank of the lake, with a book placed strategically over his face so that just a crown of pale blonde hair could be seen sticking out at the top.  
"Hello Draco." He sighed as he plonked himself down next to him.  
"Hello Neville. Been looking for me?"  
"Yes, for an hour. We're supposed to be researching our Potions project." Neville kept his voice calm and unemotional. He didn't want the Pureblood Prince to think he'd caused a fuss.  
"Well," Draco yawned, stretching out his limbs with feline precision. "That didn't work out too well, did it?" Neville snorted and plodded off, making a beeline for the Gryffindor Tower and obviously giving Draco the cold shoulder. Draco winced at the tone and then settled back down again, satisfied that he wouldn't have to spend hours with Neville pretending he didn't want to jump his bones. He didn't even care that Neville hated him right now, because he hoped that if Neville hated him enough, then he would start to hate him back. Of course, an anti-love potion would be much simpler, but Draco had realised that he wasn't prepared to risk his secret coming out in the process of making one. He had to eliminate the secret first, and then complete the project, not the other way round. So he closed his eyes, forced all thoughts out of his head, and drifted off to sleep under the clouds.

xXx

"It's infuriating! I've got no chance of passing potions as it is, without that bloody Malfoy gallivanting about and wasting time! If we don't get started on this project soon we'll never get it done! I mean, I didn't expect anything better from the likes of him, but really! Does he have to be so awkward about this?" Neville whirled around and glared at Dean Thomas with an expression of absolute vexation, clearly expecting some form of reply from his housemate. When Dean failed to answer he let out a great sigh and continued furiously pacing up and down to common room, occasionally flapping his arms when the moment took hold of him. Dean could only watch, too shocked at this sudden outburst to offer any input whatsoever, and so followed Neville's pacing with his eyes until he felt thoroughly sick.  
"Okay, that's it! Stop! I can't take it any more!" he finally cried out. "If you're so angry about it, go find Malfoy and force him to work on the project! Lord knows you'd better do something before you wear a hole in the carpet!"  
Neville stared blankly at Dean for a second. "Force him?"  
Dean rolled his eyes. "Yes, force him. Back him into a corner or something, I don't know! Just do something. I can't take your whingeing any more! You're not the only one with problems, you know."  
"Why, who are you partnered with?" Neville inquired, somewhat cynically. He obviously thought that Malfoy was the worst case scenario, but Dean could show him otherwise.  
"Gregory Goyle." He replied. Neville's face instantly crumpled with revulsion.  
"Is he as stupid as he seems?"  
Dean snorted. "You have no idea!"  
Neville sighed. Maybe Draco wasn't so bad after all, if he could just get him to cooperate…  
"Yeah, I guess that's pretty bad. Well, I guess I'll go and force Malfoy to work on the project, then. Thanks Dean."  
"No problem." Dean smiled. Neville was halfway out of the portrait hole before he stopped suddenly and whirled back around.  
"Dean?" he called.  
"Yeees?" Dean replied. What now?  
"Try motivating Goyle with food…" He grinned impishly, and Dean found himself grinning too. He suddenly had a mental image of luring Goyle into the Potions lab with a cupcake dangling from a stick.  
"Thanks Neville." He chuckled. The other boy simply waved and disappeared through the portrait.

xXx

"Malfoy! Wake up!" a voice shouted, violently wrenching Draco from some dream or another and near enough giving him a heart attack.  
"What?" he yelped, clutching a hand to his chest to stop his heart from exploding out of his ribcage.  
"We're working on this project now, whether you like it or not!" the voice snapped. Draco didn't take too kindly to being spoken to like that. As soon as he opened his eyes he was going to swipe for that voice, by Merlin he would!  
"Oh, hullo Neville!" Okay, so maybe he wouldn't quite _swipe_ for them…  
"Come on, we're going to the Potion's lab. I've already got the books we need, seeing as Madam Pince won't let you anywhere near the library." Neville continued, giving Draco a little impatient nudge in the ribs with his foot. Draco looked down at the spot he had nudged with bemusement. No one had ever dared to touch him like that before. There was even a smudge of dirt from Neville's shoe. Neville had smudged his shirt. People just didn't do that, not even now. It wasn't _done_. But Neville was doing it, and Draco wasn't entirely sure that he cared.  
"Come on!" Neville snapped, giving Draco another impatient nudge, harder this time.  
Draco looked up at the other boy and arched his eyebrow. "Don't nudge me." He told him.  
Neville arched his own eyebrow. "I'll nudge you if I want, Malfoy. We've got a project to be working on." He gave him another nudge to prove his point. Draco was amused to the point where he didn't quite feel like keeping up the haughty façade he had intended on using. Instead, he felt like messing around. He had never just let himself go and had some good clean fun with someone before; everyone he had ever known had either hated him or been too afraid of him to let their guard down. Not that Neville had let his guard down, but Draco had a feeling he just might; there was a playful glint in his eyes as he mercilessly smudged dirt all over Draco's shirt.  
"Do that again." Draco demanded, an idea twinkling in his subconscious. Neville cocked his head to one side, sensing a dare, before complying with Draco's request. In an instant Draco had seized his ankle and proceeded to ruthlessly yank at it, making Neville drop his armful of books and come dangerously close to losing his balance.  
"Let go!" he demanded. Draco laughed and gave Neville's leg an extra hard yank. The sandy-haired boy gave a sharp yelp before he went tumbling over, landing in a heap on top of Draco. Suddenly, as Draco found Neville pressed awkwardly against him, he realised that it hadn't been such a good idea. He realised this when the panicked thought entered his head that Neville was all of a sudden draped over him, causing all sorts of scenarios to play out in hisn head. Then, blood rushed to exactly where Draco didn't want it to go, and before he knew it, he was hard against Neville's thigh.  
"Um, Draco…" Neville whimpered helplessly, obviously having noticed Draco's little friend popping up to say hello. Of course he had; how could he miss _that_? Draco struggled to come up with something witty to smooth the situation over, while simultaneously trying not to blush, despite his face rapidly filling up with blood that _really_ shouldn't have been spare, all things considering. Needless to say, it was a losing battle. There are some things you just can't talk your way out of.  
Neville was, clearly, in a state of shock. He looked absolutely petrified, and Draco was concerned that the boy might have some sort of nervous breakdown, right there on top of him. His fears, however, were discredited when Neville abruptly regained all thought and movement and responded by leaping off of Draco with a sharp cry of horror and dashing back to the castle as fast as he possibly could (which turned out to be surprisingly fast, when the situation called for it).  
Draco watched him go, then cursed and ran shaking hands through his hair, telling himself that those were _not_ tears in his eyes. The look of terror and disgust in Neville's eyes was heartbreaking, but unfortunately not at all unexpected, so he had no excuse to start crying. There was _never_ an excuse to start crying, damn it! He still couldn't help it though, and when he scooped up the books Neville had left abandoned on the floor, he found himself sobbing too. He had seen in those scared eyes that Neville hated him; he probably wouldn't ever talk to him again, and it _hurt_.  
'_Not as much as it's going to hurt when Potter and his fan club hear about this and decide to teach me a lesson,_' he thought, '_Or as much as when Zabini hears and decides to do the same. I'm going to die.'_ And with that cheery notion floating around among the endless stream of tears, Draco walked blindly away from that point, knowing that life had stopped being worth living as of about ten minutes ago. He was a dead man walking.

xXx

**Voila! Chapter five! Feedback is needed to live, my pretties. TO LIVE!**


	6. Harmony?

**So sorry for the delay, people. Really, I am. No excuses, just on with the chapter before that angry impatient mob starts hurling overripe fruit at me.**

**I would, however, like to take the time to apologise for the horrifically sucky chapter titles. Better ones will come with experience, I'm sure.**

**Disclaimer: No character or location in this story belongs to me. I borrowed them from the masterful JK Rowling, because I'm perverted and curious about the possibilities. And also my own characters are on strike at the moment and refuse to let me write with them. Bastards. (No! I didn't mean it! I love you really! Come baaaack:wails:)**

**Warning: Slashy! And bad words such as that three letter one beginning with 'g' and rhyming with 'it' that Ron seems to favour. Possibly others, I don't know. Read it and see!**

**Dedication: For Melly: Head up, young person!**

**XXX**

Neville was shaking, with silver tears making silent tracks down his round face. Harry couldn't fathom why the poor boy was so upset, as Trevor was still right there in his lap, and they hadn't had a lesson with Snape since the day before yesterday. He could only assume it was something frightfully tragic and sudden, and so faced the problem of whether to disturb Neville and ask what was wrong, or leave him alone on his bed until he had calmed down.

"Crikey, what's up with him?" Ron muttered as he came up behind Harry.

"I don't know." He answered. "Do you think we should, you know…do something?"

Ron shrugged. "Seems a bit harsh just to ignore him." Harry nodded in agreement. He knew he had just been wordlessly volunteered to approach the nervous wreck quivering before them, and telepathically let Ron know just how deeply he thanked him for the privilege. Taking a deep breath, he edged closer to the bed and tentatively reached out to place a hand on Neville's shoulder.

"Neville?" he murmured. Neville started, suddenly aware of the other two boys in the room. He looked up at Harry and gave an embarrassed smile before smearing the tears away with the heel of his palm. To Harry's relief, his hand was allowed to stay on his shoulder without any form of violent protest.

"I'm okay." He said, fixing them with a defiant look. Harry matched it.

"No you're not. What's wrong?"

Neville gave a great heaving sigh. His face flickered with conflicting emotions as he tried to decide whether or not to tell Harry and Ron what had happened.

"Is it your parents?" Harry asked after a substantial silence had passed.

"Oh, Heavens no!" Neville chuckled. "No, nothing like that. Something just happened today…with Draco. I'm a little shaken up, to be honest. Not quite sure what to make of it."

"What did that little git do now?" Ron hollered; his fists instantly balled at his sides. Harry managed to stay outwardly calm, but his green eyes were ablaze with anger at the mention of Draco's name. Neville couldn't help but flinch at the severity of their reaction, and he knew that he couldn't possibly tell them what had happened by the lake. They would hear bad news no matter how he explained it, and then they would just go off and blow everything out of proportion, trying to be heroes. And that was the _last_ thing Neville wanted right now.

"Nothing." Neville said. "He didn't do anything."

"But you just said…"

"I didn't say he _did_ anything, I just said something happened _with_ him." Neville interrupted. He paused for a second, trying not to make it too obvious that he was trying to think of a good lie. "I, um…I saw one of the Thestrals flying above the forest." He said at last.

"A Thestral?" Ron snorted.

"Yes, a Thestral!" Neville insisted. "It just reminded me of that night at the Ministry…and I…got a bit shaken up." He finished lamely. Harry and Ron were clearly not convinced, but at the same time both seemed to have lost their earlier momentum and no longer seemed too concerned with the exact truth.

"Well, as long as you're alright." Harry shrugged, then yawned and headed over to his own bed. Ron gave him one last curious look before nodding and following suit. It was, after all, really late. Neville listened as they settled down, rustling the bed sheets and murmuring tired goodnights to each other. When one was directed at him, he returned it, and then tried to settle down himself.

Hours later, Neville was tossing and turning and evidently _not_ settled down. How could he possibly settle down? Just that afternoon he had been straddling Draco Malfoy while his erection pressed into his thigh! All Neville had to do was close his eyes and the entire sordid affair would replay itself in his head like a warped puppet show. The worst part was that he could still feel…it, as if Draco was still there. The thought made him sick to the stomach, and before he knew it the tears started streaming down his cheeks again. Why him? Oh, Merlin's beard, why him?

XXX

Draco was practically shaking with apprehension. He felt eyes on him from every direction, but when he looked up, no one was paying him the slightest bit of attention. He was expecting angry mobs, and this was what he got? He didn't understand; Neville _must_ have told _someone_. Why the complete lack of death threats?

"Stop dithering and get in here, Longbottom!" Snape barked at the doorway. Draco's head snapped up to see a very hesitant Neville slink into the classroom with the reluctance of a lethargic cave troll. The poor boy looked as petrified as Draco felt, no thanks to Draco himself, and knowing that only made him feel worse. His heart broke with every repugnant step Neville took towards him, until finally the Gryffindor sat down, putting as much distance between them as the desk would allow. He immediately buried his nose in his Potions text book, unable to look directly at Draco, though he watched him warily from the corner of his eye as if he could strike at any moment. Draco felt he would rather have the angry mob.

"Neville," he murmured at last, unable to take the deafening silence. The thought of the upcoming conversation made him feel nauseous with terror, but it had to be done. He chanted this as a mantra in his head when Neville's frightened brown orbs fixed themselves on him.

"Look, about yesterday…" he began, but found himself unable to continue. How on _earth_ was he going to explain this?

"Why?" Neville asked. Draco blinked.

"Why?" He didn't quite follow what Neville was asking 'why?' about.

"Why did you…why did…what happened, exactly? I mean, I know _what happened_, but…what…what _really_ happened?" the Gryffindor stammered. Draco could see his confusion and suddenly understood. Dear, naïve Neville hadn't gone running for the cavalry because he wasn't entirely sure if they were needed. Thank Merlin for innocent uncertainty!

"Well, I hadn't expected you to fall quite on top of me, you see," Draco explained. A well placed grimace and a nicely prompted blush gave the impression that he ­_wasn't_ about to lie through his pearly whites. "And when you did, well it just caught me off guard and…well, friction did the rest, I suppose. It's quite embarrassing really. You must think I'm a sexually-charged pervert." A humiliated duck of the head and an uneasy sigh finished off the charade nicely, and Draco grinned inwardly as Neville bought it all with a simple 'Oh.' He may have lost his reputation, but he hadn't lost his touch, that was for sure.

"I see." Neville nodded. "You think I'm an idiot, don't you?" Draco froze as Neville let out a haughty chuckle. "I mean honestly! Friction? That's pathetic!"

"It's a perfectly plausible reason!" Draco snapped back, maybe a little _too_ defensively.

"It's a lie! It boggles the mind, it really does, to try and think of why, but you _wanted_ me."

"And how do you feel knowing that?"

"I don't know…horrified, I guess…and…confused. I mean…well, you're not expecting anything to come of this, are you? I don't quite know what you want from me, other than the obvious, of course."

Draco blinked. "What do I want from you? I…I'm not…I mean right now I'm just grateful that you're still talking to me!"

Neville took a moment to regard the Slytherin Prince before him. It seemed he currently had the upper hand of the situation without realising, and it really would be silly even for him to waste such a golden opportunity.

"Hand me that phoenix feather." Neville ordered. Yes, ordered, and it felt _good_; especially when Draco rapidly complied with the eagerness of one of his house elves. Neville suppressed a smirk. _I could get used to this,_ he thought, ignoring that little part of his brain that was busy trying to remind him exactly _why_ he was suddenly in Draco Malfoy's good books. Whenever he remembered that fact he felt like a rabbit running from a fox.

Two rows behind Draco and Neville, Harry Potter looked up from the sickly sweet-smelling something Millicent had ordered him to grind into a paste and frowned. He could see before his very eyes the perplexing vision of Neville and Draco _cooperating_, but it just didn't quite seem to register with his mind. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that Draco was doing as _Neville_ told him, and that was just not right. It didn't add up at _all_, and even beginning to attempt to figure it out was threatening to give him a nose bleed. However, Harry was able to take comfort in the fact that from the other side of the classroom Ron was looking over at the unlikely pair with an equal expression of bewilderment upon his freckle-splattered face. Harry struggled to catch his eye, but when he did, he gave his head a little twitch in Draco and Neville's direction and raised an eyebrow. Ron replied by shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head.

"WEASLEY!" Snape bellowed from the front of the classroom. He swooped down upon Ron and slammed a fist onto the desk with such force that the entire row of cauldrons quivered precariously and spattered some of their contents in protest. Snape seemed satisfied with this. "Would you kindly cease your telepathic exchange of chit-chat with Mr Potter and continue with your project. Your potion has turned an ill-looking purple, which is _not_ the right colour for the early stages of production of a charisma-enhancing potion. I suggest you pay closer attention in future, as Miss Parkinson cannot be expected to take care of everything. Ten points from Gryffindor for the passing of notes and ten more for negligence." Having dealt his punishment, he stormed off again, leaving Ron in full goldfish mode and Pansy Parkinson shrieking at him for letting their prototype simmer for too long. A small Gryffindor voice could be heard whimpering 'But there weren't any notes.' while the deep chuckling of Blaise Zabini echoed from the back. Harry promptly forgot all about Draco and Neville and concentrated solely on the pressing urge to murder Snape.

XXX

"Ugh! Blaise is refusing to write any of the report so I have to do it for both of us! That boy has become so…so…irritating!" Hermione cried. She threw herself into one of the common rooms numerous squishy chairs and sighed the heavy sigh of someone with much to sigh about.

"At least you have something to write a report on!" Ron exclaimed; wagging a knowing finger at Hermione's weary form as it sank into the chair. "Pansy decided that we had to start all over again just because the prototype went a bit wrong!" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well it was your own fault for leaving the potion to simmer for too long."

"Whose side are you on?"

"Oh grow up. I'm not in the mood for you today Ronald Weasley."

"Well I'm not in the mood for you, either!"

"Hey!" Harry yelled, stepping between his two best friends. He couldn't take them squabbling again, not after that horrific Potions lesson. "Stop griping at each other. Honestly, you're not the only ones with partners from hell. My hands are going to smell like Veela sweat for weeks thanks to Millicent!"

Ron sighed. "Yeah, I s'pose. Sorry 'Mione. Didn't mean to take it out on you."

"Likewise." Hermione mumbled. "Anyway, what about you Neville? Don't you have any nightmarish stories from working with Draco?"

Neville jerked his head up and blinked. "No…not really. He's quite easy to work with once you give him a chance."

"Well…" Hermione paused, composed herself and then continued again. "That's…interesting."

"Interesting! That's bloody mental, is what that is!" Ron spluttered.

"I know he's been different ever since that cauldron incident," said Hermione, "But I was under the impression that he went from being an arrogant and insufferable bigot to being a hopeless recluse. Surely that would be even harder to work with?"

Neville fidgeted. "He's not a recluse, exactly. He's just miserable, because of the sudden shift in power."

"Well he would be, wouldn't he?" Harry snorted. "Dear old Draco's not used to being low on the food chain. It's just a shame that Zabini had to replace him at the top."

"Yeah, I never thought it possible but Blaise is almost worse than Draco."

"Well at least you don't have to work with him." Hermione huffed. Neville shifted in his seat. He didn't like all this talk of Draco and Blaise. What if it all suddenly came back to him? What if he had to explain why he was suddenly all buddy-buddy with Draco? What if they all accused him of being gay because of what happened by the lake? He wasn't sure he could take it, he wasn't strong enough. He had to get away, had to leave.

"Well, I think I'm going to bed. Goodnight everyone!" he said as he leapt up and escaped up the stairs. The Trio watched him leave with utter confusion.

"Is it just me, or does he do that every time Draco comes up in conversation?" Ron said.

"Only since the weekend." Harry muttered. "Something definitely happened between those two." And he intended to find out what.

XXX

**Um, reviews raise my self esteem, and are treasured because I'm sad and needy. Thank you for your time.**


	7. Confused? You will be

**IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT (04.08.06): I do not like this chapter. I am not satisfied with the events of this chapter nor with the direction it takes the plot, therefore I am re-writing it and will delete this chapter in a few days to make way. Those who know me will know how lazy I am and will therefore appreciate the severity of my dislike towards this chapter (aka - Mel). Sorry and all, if you liked it, but I have no choice.

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"Tell me what you want, Draco."

Neville's eyes peered at him over a Herbology textbook in a dark and distorted library. If Draco didn't know any better he would have said they were burning with lust…

"I want you, of course. I told you."

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "Then act like a Malfoy and take me!"

Now that was an order Draco was only too happy to follow…

xXx

"Wakey wakey Draco!" The sing-song voice of Blaise Zabini hammered through Draco's eardrum, snapping him into the waking world and nearly giving him a heart attack. All images of an eager looking Neville cruelly and quickly evaporated with the haze, leaving only an incredibly obvious morning wood to remind Draco of his delightful would-have-been-pornographic dream. If Blaise had just waited one bloody minute…

"My, my! Someone was having a nice dream, weren't they?" Draco only had to see the haughty smirk on Zabini's face to know where he was looking. A futile attempt was made to cover it up with an armful of blankets, drawing another smirk and a snigger from Blaise.

"What do you want?" Draco snapped at last, the intended authority in his voice blemished by a desperate tremor. Blaise needed to go away. Now.

"Well," Blaise took a few slow, steady steps and sat on the edge of the bed. He casually leaned back, placing his hands out behind to support him. Draco flinched as one was placed between his sprawled thighs, the other between his knees. "I simply wanted to talk to you." There was a dangerously feral look his dark eyes that really wasn't helping Draco's erection (or rather, it was, depending on how you look at it.), and he found himself thinking of just how feline Zabini was. He was like a panther about to strike.

"Look," Draco whimpered (though Merlin knows he tried not to), "Whatever this is about, perhaps now's not the time."

Blaise ignored him. "I'm bored, you see." His hand suddenly seemed to have inched a lot closer to Draco's groin than before. "This 'top dog' business isn't really my style."

Squirm. "You seemed keen enough to take my place."

"I wanted to hurt you." Blaise sighed, as if that simple answer was enough to explain everything.

"Well, clearly." Draco coughed, edging himself away from Blaise's hand as much as the headboard allowed. "But, why exactly did you want to hurt me?"

Blaise looked at Draco with eyes so open, so honest, that it hurt to feel their gaze. Unable to meet such an intense look, Draco glanced down at the hand between his knees and saw that it was holding Blaise's wand. It gave a sharp twitch and suddenly the bed was enveloped by drapes as they pulled themselves shut around it. Blaise had moved at some point to straddle and effectively pin Draco to the bed. There hadn't even been time to cry out in alarm, and by now Draco was just too damn shocked to do so. What the hell was Zabini doing?

"I wanted to hurt you because you ignored me for him!" Blaise spat out the word 'him' with frightening vehemence, and Draco saw that the feral eyes had returned with blazing vengeance. A little voice at the back of his head was kindly informing him that right now would be an appropriate time to panic.

"Blaise, look…"

"Shut up!" Blaise choked back tears, determined not to give him the chance to use the trademark Malfoy charm. "I hated you so much that I wanted to destroy you, but I've run out of hate. Being you isn't good enough anymore." He paused, brushing a pale wisp of hair off of Draco's face, and then he smiled. "I have to be _with_ you."

Draco's head was spinning. It had never occurred to him that Blaise might be in love with him, or that he might watch him closely enough to know about Neville. He saw the pain and anguish twisted in his face and suddenly felt very, very sorry. He wanted to make it better. He needed to see Blaise smile again, couldn't bear to see him bleed because of him.

"I don't suppose you're hitting on me, are you Master Zabini?" He gave an expertly cheeky grin in just the right way, at just the right moment, and to his relief Blaise chuckled and the whole world shifted so that everything was alright again. Draco smiled, and then remembered that he was still pinned on the bed, with a still-very-obvious erection, and a very lustful Blaise Zabini grinning over him.

"Are you planning on letting me up anytime soon?" he asked.

"Nope."

Then the Panther pounced, swiftly meeting Draco's lips with his own and _devouring_ the blonde. He kissed him hard, teasing his bottom lip with his teeth, and Draco realised that no, it wasn't just Neville and yes, he most probably _was_ gay and by Merlin had he been an idiot for not ever _noticing_ Blaise before!

Blaise broke the kiss and grinned, "My, my Draco. What _would_ your father think?"

Draco gave a wheezy snigger, breathless from the kiss and still lost in a hazy rush of testosterone. "Sod my father and what he thinks!" He freed an arm and took hold of the nape of Blaise's neck. He pulled him closer, so that their noses were touching and whispered; "Sod what everybody thinks!" Then he kissed him right back.

xXx

"What really happened between you and Draco, Neville?"

Neville froze with his robe only halfway on. He had been no more than three steps away from escaping out of the portrait. Three, tiny steps away and Hermione still managed to catch him, despite him (and therefore Hermione as well) being late for class.

"I don't know what you mean." He squeaked. She was going to break him, he was sure of it. She was just too perceptive; she'd know he was lying before he even opened his mouth.

"I mean that some of us have noticed that Draco has been following _your_ orders… and that whenever he comes up in conversation you make up some silly excuse and disappear. Look, you're even desperate to escape now!"

Neville caught himself edging closer to the doorway and sighed.

"I'm late for class?" he offered. Hermione frowned.

"What on earth is going on?" And then she fixed him with a stare so demanding and typical of a Hermione-who-knows-she's-right that Neville could only slump in defeat.

"It's really nothing."

"Then you should be able to tell me without a fuss."

"I don't have to, though. Do I?" he looked at her with huge, brown, pleading eyes. For a brief moment it looked like she was about to take pity on the poor boy and leave him alone, until her inquisitive side won.

"Come on Neville, it's clearly not just nothing. I just want to help, whatever it is."

Neville took in a deep breath. It looked like he only had one option left. He quickly checked to see if the coast was clear, straightened out his robe and looked Hermione straight in the eye. He took a couple more deep breaths and turned.

Then he ran.

Straight out of the portrait door.

He didn't turn back as Hermione's frustrated calls floated out into the corridors behind him, just ran all the way to Transfiguration. McGonagall merely quirked an eyebrow as he burst into the classroom, all cherry-faced and out of breath, then ignored him and left him to get to his seat. She was obviously tired of taking points away from her own house on his account. However, he found himself unable to concentrate for the rest of the lesson; his brain was preoccupied with working out how in the name of Merlin Hermione had managed to get there before him. (A/N - answers on a postcard, please)

xXx

"Dung beetles."

Neville looked up to find Draco standing before him with an open textbook in one hand, the other pointing to something on the page.

"I beg your pardon? Dung beetles?"

"It's what we're missing for our potion." Draco dropped the book into Neville's lap and sat down opposite him. Neville noticed that his eyes would occasionally dart about for fear of Madam Pince leaping out from between the shelves and attacking him with her feather duster. Apparently, Snape hadn't managed to sweet-talk her out of Draco's little library ban.

"That's another thing," he continued. "Our potion; I'm not sure we should make an anti-love potion. It's ever so self-pitying, don't you think? I was thinking about going more along the lines of a clarity potion; something to make you see things clearer, take off the rose-tinted glasses, so to speak. What do you think?"

Neville was stunned. "Well, er…"

"I mean, it's a broader concept, I know, but it's so much simpler to achieve, and we _were_ struggling with what ingredients to use. I mean, you'd think with all the natural aphrodisiacs Professor Snape keeps in the supply cupboard there'd be a few more _anti_-aphrodisiacs, wouldn't you? I mean, what does he need all the different kinds for? Actually, wait. Don't think about that. Ugh!"

"Draco, stop!" Neville cried, desperately trying _not_ to think about that. "You're babbling like a girl! What's gotten into you?"

Draco blinked. He had a ghost of a smirk on his lips. "Nothing. Things are just…on the up. That's all. So, are we agreed on the potion? Excellent. We won't be needing dung beetles after all. See you this afternoon!" And then he upped and left, and if Neville didn't know any better he would have sworn there was a bounce in the Slytherin's step.

"What's he so chirpy for?" Ron demanded as he sat down next to Neville.

"I've got no idea." Neville sighed. He didn't even bother edging away. He knew Harry was already on the other side, cutting off all means of escape. They had obviously been talking to Hermione.

"So, we were wondering what the hell was going on with you and Draco." Harry said. Neville groaned and let his head sink onto the desk.

"There is nothing going on."

Ron scoffed. "Other than him running after you like a frightened house elf."

Suddenly Neville's head snapped up. He had _not_ liked Ron's tone of huff. Ron was supposed to be one of the few people who _respected_ him. "Oh, so just because Malfoy's doing as _I_ say then there simply _has_ to be something suspicious going on, does there?"

"Well, Neville, I just meant that…"

"I mean, are you all convinced that he's _in love_ with me or something?"

"Neville," Harry stepped in. "We never…"

"Well he's not! No way! So just leave me alone!"

Neville jumped to his feet, sending his chair sailing backwards and crashing to the ground. He stormed right out of the library, almost in tears, leaving a flabbergasted Harry and Ron in his wake.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Ron asked Harry.

"I haven't the faintest idea." Harry replied. "But there is definitely something going on with Neville."

"No, do you think?" Ron shot back.

Hermione seemed puzzled when Harry and Ron had managed to relay the events in the library back to her during one of Professor Binns' tiresome lectures.

"Well," she whispered, having given the matter some careful thought. "He is ever so touchy about Malfoy these days. And from the sounds of it he made sure to deny that there was anything going on _between _him and Malfoy. You are sure that those were the exact words you both used?"  
"Positive." Ron nodded.

"Yes, so he was denying that there was anything going on between them and he _specifically_ mentioned the possibility of Malfoy being in love with him…"

"Or rather the impossibility of it." Harry pointed out.

"Exactly!" Hermione cried.

"So…" said Harry. "Do you think that's it? Malfoy's…_in love_…with _Neville_?" Hermione nodded.

"Oh, that's disgusting!" Ron howled.

"It makes sense." said Hermione. "Why else would Malfoy be so suddenly interested in cooperating with him? Why else would he suddenly start being so nice to him? It even explains why he was sneaking around your dormitory that night, and why he's seemed so distracted."

Ron started making a gagging noise.

"Ugh! Malfoy was sizing up Neville while he slept!"

"That is wrong on so many levels." Harry agreed.

"Oh, stop being such children you two! It's just a theory." Hermione snapped.

"It's a pretty solid theory though." Harry added. "You're right; it does make sense. The thing is, if Malfoy _is_ in love with Neville…well let's just say that Malfoys have a habit of taking what they want."

"Do you think that's why Neville's so upset? Do you think Malfoy is forcing himself on him?"

Ron snorted. "I wouldn't put it past him."

Harry sighed. "Well I guess we're going to have to find out the truth, one way or another." He silently prayed that for Hermione was wrong for once in her life.

* * *

**Please take the time to forget everything that just happened. It will change in a few weeks (hope springs eternal).**


	8. And then it got steamy

**I attempted an actual love scene! (boogies) Okay, so it's not real smutty smut, but it's smutty for me, alright? **

_**Pablo: She chickened out.**_

**Me: I did NOT chicken out! I merely ensured that it remained tasteful.**

_**Pablo: (stares intently)**_

**Me: (stares back)**

_**Pablo: (waves flipper threateningly)**_

**Me: …Okay, I chickened out! Whatever happened to baby steps, huh?**

_**Pablo: You can't write smut.**_

**Me: And you can't fly. Hah! Beat that, you stupid imaginary penguin!**

_**Pablo: (cries)**_

**I'm sorry this took sooooooo loooooong. And I'm sorry it's so short. I'm pretty sure everybody's given up on me by now. I know I had until about an hour ago, and then BOOM! Plot-penguins attack.**

**Anyway, disclaimers and the like are present in earlier chapters. The warnings stay much the same: guy-on-guy action and bad words your Granny wouldn't approve of, yadda yadda.**

**As always, this is dedicated to my darling Melly, who lovingly beats me over the head until I finish these darn chapters, for which I will always be grateful. Thank you, and enjoy.

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**

Since Blaise had pounced on him that morning, Draco felt as though his eyes had been wrenched open after weeks of being glued shut. Suddenly, Neville was just a boring smudge next to Blaise's vibrant mural. In his head he found himself comparing the two, mentally tearing Neville to pieces as Blaise came out on top over and over again. Blaise was sexier, Blaise was more fun, Blaise was smarter, Blaise's hair smelled better. He came up with detail after detail for Blaise to trump Neville with, becoming more petty and cruel with each one, but he didn't care, because it made him feel better. In a way, his cruelty compensated his embarrassment. He felt like such a fool for convincing himself that his life began and ended with Neville. He was never in love with him; at best it had been a crush, but of course Draco had never had a crush before so naturally, he had mistaken the hormonal fireworks as love. Pathetic.

Needless to say, he had learned his lesson. He knew he wasn't in love with Blaise; he doubted he would take a nasty hex for him. Neville had been infatuation and Blaise was simply lust. Red, hot, burning lust that took his mind and body beyond control. The Neville lust had been a warm orange at best, and it certainly hadn't sent him spinning out of control. It may have distracted him an awful lot, but psychological and physical domination were not Neville symptoms. Not like Blaise. Draco sometimes thought that Neville had been his minds way of preparing him for Blaise. He had been the bolt that had to be taken out to open the floodgates and release the tidal wave. Unfortunately, a small niggling little trace of affection towards Neville still insisted on resisting the Blaise-flood. Draco was therefore busying himself with finding a way to eradicate it completely so that he could return to his old self again.

"What are you doing?" Blaise purred, appearing in the dormitory entrance and fixing Draco with a playful grin.

"Working on my Potions project." He picked up his textbook and waved it as proof, deliberately not taking his eyes of the parchment he was scribbling on. He could practically feel Blaise's irritation wafting through the air.

"Can't you do that some other time?"

"When do you suggest?"

"When you meet up with your Gryffindor, like the rest of us."

"And what should I do in the meantime?"

Blaise lowered himself into Draco's lap, wrapping his arms around his neck, and grinned.

"Entertain me?"

He took great delight in feeling the shiver go all the way down Draco's spine, deliberately following it down with the ghost of his fingertips and stopping just at the small of his back. Draco could feel his breathing shallow and quicken as his resolve slowly slipped away. Every part of him that Blaise touched was on fire and it was driving him crazy.

"Kiss me." He croaked. He let his eyes slide shut in apprehension and sighed when he felt Blaise cup his face with those smooth, clever hands of his. He let out a small moan when he felt Blaise's lips press against his and gasped when his hot tongue forced its way into his mouth. Their bodies pressed solidly together as the kiss intensified, so solidly that there were sure to be friction burns afterward. Draco's arms wrapped themselves desperately around Blaise's waist and held him so tightly that the air was forced out of his lungs.

"Eager, aren't we?" Blaise wheezed, fleetingly breaking the kiss for an unbearable eternity of seconds. Draco snarled and brought their mouths crashing back together, moulding their bodies into one and positively shutting Blaise up. He could only groan when he felt Draco's needy arousal grind against his own; all raucous declarations of passion had no choice but to stifle and lose themselves in Draco's fervent lips and burning tongue. Oh, he was everything Blaise had dreamed he'd be and more!

"What in the name of Merlin are you two doing?"

A nasally shriek splintered through the air and slapped the two boys in the face with reality. With matching panic-stricken faces they turned to see Pansy Parkinson standing behind them, her gaping mouth rivalling the most astonished of goldfish. Horror didn't even begin to describe what was going through her head.

"What does it look like?" Blaise snapped. Draco could tell that inside he was shitting himself from the way his hands had started trembling as they rested on his back. To be honest he didn't feel much different.

"Oh my! Just _wait_ until everybody hears about this!" Pansy giggled. Clearly Draco wasn't the only one to see through Blaise's bluff. "You two won't be able to walk from here to the Potions classroom without being hexed!"

"Who'd believe you Pansy?" said Draco. He amazed himself with his own calm exterior. Already he was figuring out a way to wriggle out of this, just how Father taught him. Suddenly it was as if the last few weeks had never happened, and it was with a disdainful mask of superiority that he continued, "Blaise will say you threw yourself at him even more than usual and he rejected you. Everyone will believe him and you'll just come across as a bitter old hag. And even if that wasn't so, it's too tall a tale anyway. Why would Blaise want to bother with stupid washed up Draco? I'm a nobody. In fact I'm worse than a nobody because I made a fool of the Slytherin name and disgraced myself, so I'm almost lower than the mudbloods." He gave a triumphant smile. "Blaise hates me darling, remember?"

Pansy glared at Draco with suspicious knife-like eyes. She grinned. "Nice try." Then she turned and left the way she came, cackling with absolute glee. She didn't even stop to watch Draco slump into Blaise's shoulder in defeat.

"Shit." he whimpered.

* * *

"Okay, crow feathers, lizard eyes and gnome silk are good for improving vision. If we fuse them with chipped unicorn horn then it should improve the 'vision of the mind', aka improve mental clarity or whatever you're aiming for." Neville yanked his nose out his potions textbook. "Does that sound good to you Draco?"

"Hmm?" The Slytherin looked blankly at Neville. He hadn't been listening at all.

"Oh for crying out loud Malfoy! We've only got a few weeks to get this right! Would you concentrate, please?"

"Sorry." was the mumbled reply. Draco scrabbled around in search of a piece of parchment and then began to half-heartedly take down notes. It was awfully quiet in the library (Madam Pince had decided to lift his ban after all.) He didn't understand. Where were the lynching mobs? Where were the gangs hiding in the hallways, waiting to rip him apart like he had done so many times before? Pansy must have told the entire wizarding community by now, let alone the school. He should be strung up by his underwear next to Blaise, not left to study peacefully with Longbottom! Unless…unless no one had believed her, like he said they wouldn't. Had he been right? Was it really that tall a tale?

A figure swept past. "I don't even know why you're bothering."

"Neville's not that bad a partner, actually Blaise." Draco snapped back. Their eyes met and all pretence of bitterness and hate were stripped away behind that electric gaze.

"I wasn't talking to you, Malfoy; I was talking to the Gryffindor." Blaise practically purred, although to the outside ear it would have sounded like a snarl. Draco fought the urge to smile. Maybe…just maybe they really were that good at hiding it. Perhaps it really was too tall a tale. Merlin knows Draco would hardly believe it himself if he didn't have the bite marks to prove it.

Neville awkwardly coughed and stood up. "Look, you're clearly not in the mood to study. I have a Transfiguration essay due in tomorrow I could be doing. See you tomorrow." He scurried off and Blaise watched him disappear before sliding into his empty seat.

"So," He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands. "It looks like we're in the clear."

Draco smirked. Of course Blaise would tempt fate, the cocky bastard. "That's an awfully friendly pose for a public place, don't you think?"

"Oh, I don't know. If you wiped that smirk off your face it could be interpreted as quite intimidating. I could be cruelly taunting you, possibly subjecting you to emotional blackmail right now."

"Looks rather friendly to me."

"I couldn't agree more." Pansy's voice suddenly scratched through the air. Draco and Blaise looked up to where she and two younger Slytherin girls were standing, staring at them with pure contempt. "You may have been right about people not believing me, but these two know the truth and together we are going to prove it to everybody."

Draco saw Blaise out of the corner of his eye as he effortlessly switched back into the cool mask of deception and immediately followed suit, plastering on a look of pure confusion. Blaise visibly collapsed in frustration.

"What are you going on about now?" he groaned. "Look, when are you going to get it through your thick little head that I am not interested in you, and it doesn't matter how many rumours you try and spread about me. I will still not want you. Unless you're doing this out of revenge for me rejecting you, in which case you're just bitter and twisted and really rather pathetic. Just give it up, Pansy. It's painful to watch you lower yourself like this. You'll be like him soon." He gave a quick nod in Draco's direction, earning a perfectly timed glare. They could practically hear steam coming out of Pansy's ears.

"Don't be so cocky! Your little act won't save you once I have proof, right girls?" She turned to each of her cronies, only to find them looking extremely dubious about their current positions on the matter. Furious, she screamed and stormed off, leaving Blaise to triumphantly finish the scene.

"Well ladies, I'm sorry you had to be dragged into this. I'll be leaving now before someone thinks I'm actually talking to this spineless squib. You're welcome to if you want, but I would advise against it." He stood up to leave, nodding to the girls in turn and then shooting one filthy glance at Draco. A glance that allowed just one short snatch of eye-contact yet held an entire conversation: _Tonight…under darkness…when they're all asleep…a hidden place…just us…alone…together…you won't know what hit you…I'll make you scream…I'll make you beg…I'll make you **mine**…_

Needless to say, Draco waited until the girls left before he made any attempt at standing up.

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**There we go! Chapter 8 after…god knows how long! I don't deserve reviews, but they do keep me going!**


	9. The morning after

**This is not a complete chapter. I found it lying around and thought I owed it to those who author alerted this story (such optimism! Bless you!) to upload what I did manage to write before all inspiration for this story died. I am sorry I never finished it, and I'm sorry I never will. I know there are those who enjoyed it and stuck by it for so very long (you have the patience of saints). Unfortunately this does mean that I am officially breaking my promise and discontinuing this story. A thousand apologies.**

**If, however, you are desperate for a conclusion to this story, then I am happy for you to continue it yourselves, and I will post the chapters on here with full credit given. I'm sure that's not really allowed, but I'll do it anyway because I hate abandoning this fic.**

**Anyway, here it is. Chapter Nine as it was going to be:**

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It was the morning after the night before, and Draco was most definitely suffering from involuntary post-orgasmic flashbacks. He had to fight to keep an elated grin from becoming permanently plastered to his face, and if he listened to anything his teachers said that morning, he certainly didn't remember it. Images of last night's romp in the prefect's bathroom were on an endless loop in his head and he was finding it impossible to concentrate on anything. He never thought it would be that fun to submit like that to anyone…but then Blaise was turning out to be far from anyone. Merlin, just thinking about him sent shivers down Draco's spine!

The shivers were regrettably short-lived, however. Draco was just making his way to the dungeons when he spied Potter and the Weasel hassling some first-year, demanding to know where he was. That could only mean trouble.

"Are you sure you haven't seen him?" Potter was looming over the child in a surprisingly thug-like way. He was almost putting old Goyle to shame…

The first-year shook his head violently and scurried off, and Potter watched him go, looking at least a little ashamed. While his head was turned, Draco attempted to seize the opportunity and turned in the opposite direction, but it was too late. The Weasel spotted him.

"Oi! Ferret-face! We want a word with you."

"What is it?" Draco sighed, somehow keeping his voice steady while his hand went straight to his wand.

"What's the deal with you and Neville?" Potter demanded, slipping back into his surprising thug stance.

"I don't know what you mean." Draco replied, ignoring the dramatic increase in his heart rate.

"We know there's something going on." said Weasley. "He's been acting weird ever since you two were paired up in Potions."

"And we think we know why." Potter added.

Draco tensed immediately. He had been so distracted by Blaise recently that all previous Neville-related fears had been momentarily forgotten. How careless!

"You're in love with him." said Weasley, with an accusatory tone. Draco blinked. Twice.

"That's ridiculous!" he scoffed. It wasn't a lie, and the truth of his denial must have been apparent in his voice because Potter and the Weasel faltered.

"But..." Potter spluttered, "That night in the dormitory..."

"And you're being all nice to him all of a sudden..." Weasley added.

A great sigh came from behind them, announcing Blaise's presence.

"You Gryffindors are so simplistic." he drawled. "You're confusing love with a stupid boyish crush."

Draco could only gape, hardly believing his ears. What on earth was Blaise trying to do to him? He tried to search his face for some trace of an answer, but only saw an unreadable smirk. Was that a smirk of triumph, or reassurance?

Blaise laughed. "Stop panicking Draco." he said, genuinely amused at the shocked faces that surrounded him. He glanced at Potter and Weasley. "They're not going to tell anyone. They're just concerned about Longbottom and whether or not you're a threat to him."

"And is he a threat to him?" Potter tentatively asked. Again, Blaise simply smirked.

"No."

"How can we know for sure?"

At this, Blaise's smirk widened and grew feral.

"He's had a better offer." he growled. Draco barely had time to register what was happening before he felt a hand pull roughly at his neck and a pair of lips press hungrily against his own. He stood, helpless, as Blaise thoroughly kissed him in front of the two Gryffindors, and despite his best efforts he couldn't help but allow a deep, guttural moan to escape from him when Blaise shoved him up against the stone wall of the corridor. This was the trigger to finally snap Potter and Weasley out of their stunned stupor and, coughing in a very manly fashion, they both made a very hasty exit. Satisfied, Blaise pulled away and disappeared through the secret door leading to the Slytherin common room, grinning. Once he regained the ability to think straight, Draco followed him on shaky legs.

On their way back to the Gryffindor tower, Harry and Ron exchanged looks of horror and bewilderment.

"What the hell do you think of that then?" Ron asked. "I thought they were supposed to hate each other now?"

"I don't know." Harry replied. "They deserve each other though."

"Yeah, they're both complete gits. Match made in heaven really. And at least Neville's out of the picture."

Harry frowned. "I hope so." he said. Seeing Blaise kiss Draco had thrown him, and he wasn't so sure he knew what to make of it. Draco and Blaise had been bad enough on their own, but together...well he just didn't know what to make of it. Not at all.

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**Thank you for reading! Email me if you think you can finish this...**


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